Chapter 26
Olan: How did it go?
Marvin: I don’t think it could have gone better.
Olan: Amazing and not surprising. Also I wanted to kiss you so bad at pickup. You. In that bowtie. Please wear it for me sometime.
Marvin: Of course.
The next couple of weeks fly by. With the anticipation of the visit and interview over, I lean into life. Dr. Hayes informs me I won’t be notified about the selection until the ceremony at the end of May, so I do my best to put it out of my mind and focus on my students, friends, and Olan.
At school, we are busily getting ready for our reading celebration. We spend a little bit of time each day rereading The Very Hungry Caterpillar , creating costumes for each part with posterboard, paint, and yarn, and practicing our retelling on the carpet. The kids adore the story, and the chance to craft and use their imaginations only enhances the joy of reading. Having families join us for the afternoon to revel in their children’s growth takes work, but the payoff exceeds expectations.
Jill and I return to our Saturday morning gatherings. The scare with the baby is happily only a memory, and her bump slowly begins to grow. We talk about when she might tell her class with Kristi, and she lands on waiting until closer to the end of the school year. Now that she knows about Olan, I can chat with her about him, and honestly, that feels like a huge weight has been lifted. Olan isn’t thrilled I confessed to her, but he understands, and I assure him Jill’s lips are sealed.
“I get you need someone to talk to about… well, me.”
“What about you? Who can you talk to? About me,” I ask him.
“Well, there’s Illona,” he jokes. “No, my sponsor, Jack. We have no secrets.”
Even though we’re keeping things hush-hush, Olan and I progress in a way I never would’ve imagined. We spend at least one weekend night together, usually with me staying at his place.
For Mother’s Day, Illona flies to California to see her mother, which makes my heart happy. Olan worries about being away from her, but Cindy took her, and that helps calm his nerves. With nobody at his house, he stays at my place for the first time. Gonzo is extremely wary at first and not keen on moving from his spot next to me on the bed, but eventually, with enough treats and chin scratches, he succumbs to Olan’s charm. Welcome to the club, buddy.
Waking up on a Saturday morning with both Olan and Gonzo in bed creates a sense of calmness new to me. As I lie there, sandwiched between them, I stare up at the ceiling, and a sense of peace washes over me. Olan begins to stir and mumbles, “Morning.”
“Hey, sleepy head.”
He opens one eye. “What are you so smiley about?”
“Oh, just love lying here with both my boys.” Gonzo crawls over me, lying between us and nudging Olan’s hand with his nose.
“Tell me more about little Marvin.”
“My dick? Um, I’m pretty sure you could identify him in a police lineup.”
“No, silly. Little Marvin, your childhood. You don’t talk about it much.”
A small lump forms in the back of my dry mouth. “That’s because I mostly try to forget it.”
“There must be something pleasant you remember. Something that was a reprieve for you.”
“Hmmm. Well, there was this dog.”
“You had a dog?” Olan’s eyebrows hitch up with curiosity.
“No, not a real dog, a stuffed dog. When I was about five, my mother bought him for me after a particularly bad weekend. She was trying to make up for her mess. I loved that stupid stuffed animal. He had shaggy brown fur and a giant black nose. Cuddling and playing with him brought me more comfort than you can imagine. I used to make little forts in my bedroom with blankets and pillows and have these mini adventures with him. So foolish.”
“I think it’s sweet. What was his name?”
“Ivan. It was on his tag, and I just liked it. It felt like a strong name, and I imagined he would help take care of me.”
Olan gathers me in his arms, my head on his chest as he begins stroking my hair.
“Not that you need it now, but I’d like to help take care of you.”
“What do you think about that, Gonzo?” Olan’s hand pauses petting my head, and moves to Gonzo, who immediately begins purring loud enough to shake the bed.
Gonzo, always a glutton for attention, rolls slightly, exposing his belly.
“He’s being a whore for you,” I say.
“Just like his dad.”
“Only for you.”
Since Bloody Wednesday (what I’m calling the day of Teddy’s accident), we’ve been getting to know each other on a deeper level. My feelings for him are developing in a way I wasn’t sure possible. Even in a relatively short time, our conversations become intense. This feels so right.
Saturday night, we cook giant bowls of spaghetti because Olan believes half a box is the right measurement per person. Once the copious leftovers are packed and Illona’s in bed, we chill on the sofa, my head on his lap, his hands tangled in my hair, massaging my scalp, my eyes closed from the utter relaxation. I work up the courage to ask a question I’ve been wondering about for some time.
“So, you’ve been with Isabella and now me. Do you think you’re bi?”
“I’m not sure how I identify. Maybe I’m bisexual. I don’t know. Do I need to label myself?”
“No, of course not.”
“I definitely enjoyed being with Isabella, at least at first, and now, this.” He motions between us. “You. I’m not sure what it means, but I definitely like it.”
“Like what?” I poke his thigh.
He leans over, and his face comes closer to mine. “You. I like you. A lot.”
He glides his fingers on my face, his thumb resting on my cheek.
I lift my torso and scoot into his lap, my hands on his chest.
“Oh, you like me? I would never have guessed. Would you say we’re dating?”
He almost chokes on his laugh, it comes so fast. “Uh, yeah, I’d say we’re more than dating, Marvin.”
“Oh, we are?”
“You are so damn adorable. Yes, we’re dating. Yesterday, Jack was asking about you and I referred to you as my boyfriend.”
“Excuse me? Boyfriend? How is your sponsor finding out I’m your boyfriend before me?”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I think so,” I say, unable to hide my smile.
And now we’re talking about feelings. This isn’t about lust or desire but the steady, tender yearning of care. Of a fire you want to keep blazing. And the way he’s looking at me, honestly, the way he’s looked at me for a while, he doesn’t even need to tell me. We spend a good ten minutes without moving much, but the talking leads to kissing. Olan does that thing where he starts nibbling my earlobe, sending an instant shudder of adrenaline to my core, and I murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”
It seems odd, but the sex is actually getting hotter. The more we let each other in emotionally, the more I let my defenses down, and being intimate becomes more than a physical act. We connect with our bodies, yes. It’s exquisitely hot, wild, and raw, but our hearts also clamp onto each other. The relationship we’re building propels the sex into the stratosphere.
A quick shower and I’m back in bed with Olan. He extends his left arm, inviting me into my favorite spot, lying my head on his chest. He gets to stroke my hair, and I get my cheek on his pec, so it’s a true win-win situation. Between sex and the hot shower, I’m about to doze off.
“Hey, I need to tell you something,” Olan begins.
“Mmmmh,” I groan.
“So you know the reading celebration?”
“Yeah, it’s next Friday.”
“Illona’s really excited about it.”
“She’s a cupcake.”
“A cupcake?” Olan’s face twists with confusion.
“In the story, the caterpillar eats all this random food – fruit, cake, a lollipop, a salami, and she wanted to be the cupcake. Wait until you see her outfit. She’s precious.”
“I have no doubt. And I feel like I’m missing a joke here about salami, but I’m going to let it go. Anyway, she’s quite excited and actually mentioned it to her mom.”
My ears twitch and perk up at this. Illona rarely speaks about her mom to me, and I don’t ask questions or attempt to push her into conversation around the topic.
“Oh, well, I’m glad she’s fired up for it. That’s my goal.”
“So, Illona asked her to come, and Isabella wants to. There’s no way I could tell her no.”
“Of course, she’s Illona’s mom. She absolutely should come.”
My damn head and heart tussle again. There’s nothing for me to worry about with Olan. We’re so clearly good, more than good, but the mother of his child, his ex-wife, shouldn’t be glossed over as nothing.
“There’s more. She asked to stay here, and I didn’t think I should say no. For Illona.”
“Oh.” That’s all I’ve got.
Olan props himself up, forcing me to do the same. He puts his hands behind my neck and draws my face close to rest his forehead on mine.
“Listen to me, Mr. Block. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing. This thing, you and me, I’m all in. So, whatever your adorable little brain is worrying and spiraling about, please stop it right now.”
“You don’t know me.”
But he does. And he’s right. And maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to move past catching feelings for this guy to something more.
“Does she know about me?”
I’m not sure it’s within my purview to ask, but if she’s coming, staying in the house with Olan, I need more information if he wants me not to agonize over it.
“She knows you’re Illona’s teacher. She knows we’re friends, and we hang out outside of school. Often. My gut tells me she’s suspicious. Illona talks about you. A lot. It’s been years, but I’ve talked with Isabella about wondering if I might be bisexual. She’d never ask me outright about you. I’m going to tell her, I promise.”
“How do you think she’ll react?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. She knows I haven’t dated anyone since we split.”
“No, I mean about you dating a man?”
“I mean, it shouldn’t matter, right?”
“It shouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean it won’t.”
“Well, she will have to deal with it regardless. And I want you to come for dinner. After the celebration.”
My eyes go wide, and I’m sure my shocked face reveals my uneasiness.
“Marvin, it’s a meal. With me. And Illona. And her mother. It will be fine. I promise.”
And even though it feels like the universe might be sending me something new to obsess about, I try my best to ignore the urge to spiral. Isabella is Illona’s mom. She’s Olan’s ex. How bad can she be?